Truth Be Told
by AllysonH
Summary: This story starts before Bones begins, where Brennan is still involved in a strained relationship with Pete and Booth is battling his gambling addiction. What happens when these two are forced to work together? Will be BB, and rating will go up!
1. 1st theme: Introduction

_Hey everybody! I'm a first time fanfiction writer, so this is my first shot at writing something BB. I've been reading much longer than I've been writing, but I'm currently home with my ankle in a cast, came across the 100-themes-challenge and couldn't resist. This is going to be a nice way to spend my time in solitude at home! _

_Feedback is much appreciated! Whether they're positive or not, I accept them all. This story is unbeta-ed, and English is not my native language, so any mistakes are completely on my account. Oh, and I of course don't own Bones, because if I did, I wouldn't be sitting here in the Netherlands, but in the much warmer Los Angeles on the other side of the world. I think…_

_Anyway, I can't wait to hear all your thoughts. I hope you enjoy the story._

_Allyson Hale_

* * *

**Truth Be Told **_– by AllysonHale_

1st theme: Introduction

Just a day. Temperance Brennan sighed as her eyes moved up from the busy road below. White and red lights moved their way through the town, beeping their horns and blinking as they went. Procrastinating had never been her thing. The anthropology journal dated back from the year '00 laid folded in her lap. She was glad that she had saved all of them, as she had read the ones from this year at least three times already. Although she found that most of the ideas and articles were now outdated and unpractical, it was mildly amusing sometimes.

Sometimes. She found herself looking for alternative sources of entertainment. Maybe she was going to start writing herself. A novel maybe. She was inspired enough. Temperance averted her gaze from the opposite building to her right foot that was resting on a pillow on the couch. Luckily the cast was coming off tomorrow and she could get back to work. Light work, yes. Field work…well, in cases that required her urgent attention, the doctor would probably understand that she needed to make an exception. After all, the next nearest forensic anthropologist was located in Montréal. Parlez-vous Français?

Temperance was startled out of her train of thoughts by the front door closing. She sighed again and returned her attention back to the forensic journal. She did not look up, not even when the footsteps entered the living room and paused.

"You're not going to ask me where I've been?" A male voice questioned. Temperance raised an eyebrow, but kept her gaze fixed on the journal.

"I know exactly where you were, Pete," she said, turning a page. "You were with Katie, Amber, Patricia or whoever it may be this time." Temperance had been living with Peter St. James long enough to know how to respond in certain situations.

"And this doesn't bother you?" Pete folded his arms and looked down at the beautiful woman sitting on the couch. She had her auburn hair tied together in a pony tail, revealing her slender neck. Her dark camisole was cut low enough in the front so he could look down her cleavage.

"Nope," she said, knowing very well that that answer would aggravate him. He took a few more strides towards her and forced his eyes up to her face.

"Would it bother you if I told you that the girls I'm with are lot more pretty than you are?" Tempe lazily turned her face to him and feigned disinterest. Pete bend forward and placed one hand on the couch to steady himself and he leaned in towards her. "They're much thinner than you are. They've got gorgeous blonde hair, fantastic breasts, amazing eyes…"

"I hope for you that they're as good in bed as they are pretty," Temperance spat at him. Pete took a step back, his lips reduced to a small narrow stripe. She was taunting him. And it was working. He slapped his hand on the couch, right beside her head, startling her.

"Sometimes I wonder what I'm even doing here!" Temperance narrowed her eyes at him, while resting her head on her hand.

"Yeah, I wonder too."

* * *

"Doctor Brennan, so nice to have you back with us," Doctor Goodman welcomed Brennan as she walked through the glass door, without crutches for the first time in weeks. Brennan paused in her steps as he went to stand before her. Her face formed a questioning look as Goodman placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm okay, thank you," Brennan replied, nonchalantly trying to shake his hand off. "The cast was removed, it's taped now and I'm all good to go. Do we have a case?" Without paying any further attention to Goodman, Brennan stepped beside him and walked towards the forensic platform.

"Doctor Brennan, you have been away for four weeks, do you think you can wait another five minutes to get back to work so that I can introduce you to somebody you'll be working with?" This caught her attention and Brennan turned herself around, frowning. Her swipe card was already clutched in her hand, desperate to give her quick access to the place she wanted to be most.

"To who?" Only now did she notice a man standing a few feet beside him. He stepped out from the shadows and approached her, holding out his hand.

"Special agent Seeley Booth, FBI," Brennan remained frowning while she reached out her hand to place it in his. He gave it a firm squeeze while smiling at her. Her eyes examined him from top to bottom, from the leather shoes and colourful socks to the dark suit, with the 'Cocky' belt buckle and the blue striped tie. Wait, did that belt buckle really say 'Cocky'? Brennan looked down once again. Yes, it did! She looked back up and her eyes locked with his. Their hands dropped, but their eyes remained fixed on each other. Booth was still smiling at her, which Brennan returned with that same frown she was wearing before. Goodman cleared his throat.

"Did you two know each other?"

"No," Brennan said, sounding surprised. "I'm doctor Temperance Brennan." Booth's smile widened playfully.

"Yes, I know. You're the bone lady!" Goodman looked from Booth to Brennan, who were still caught up in looking at each other intensely.

"My name is Temperance Brennan," she repeated again.

"Yeah I'm just gonna call you Bones," he replied. Oh, was this self-centered, overconfident, arrogant man just trying to drive her on the ceiling?

"Don't call me Bones!" she warned him, emphasising the 'don't'. Their eyes remained locked until Goodman literally stepped in between.

"Alright, kids, let's focus on the case here. Doctor Brennan, Agent Booth will explain everything to you in the car. This is a case that involves the death of a federal agent, hence the FBI is involved. I hope that your partnership in this case will very fruitful. Off you go now," and with that doctor Goodman walked away. Brennan looked from Booth to Goodman's back disappearing and walked after him.

"Wait, doctor Goodman!" Goodman put on the best patient face he could muster as he stopped in his tracks to wait for Brennan. When Brennan caught up with him, she inhaled deeply. "I don't think mister Booth and I can work together."

"And why would that be, doctor Brennan?"

"Because I have to do things here in the lab, that's my top priority. And rationally speaking, since I haven't been able to work fully-functioning in four weeks, I think it would be wise if I were to sit this case out in the lab and make sure that everything goes well."

"Well doctor Brennan, if I remember correctly, I believe that that's the reason why we hired your assistant Zach Addy, so that you can focus more specifically on the cases. So, this case you can work with Agent Booth, while mister Addy takes care of the simple lab work." Brennan winced as she tried to put more weight on her right ankle.

"What about Angela and Hodgins?"

"I think they are fairly aware of what their job description contains. Now, let them do their job and you do yours. Goodbye, doctor Brennan," Goodman left again, leaving Brennan behind with her arms slumped to the side. Booth joined her a few seconds later, with a sly grin plastered on his face. He placed his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows at her.

"Looks like you're stuck with me on this case, Bones. Whether you like it or not." She swallowed one time and pretended to ignore him.

"I'll go get my gun," she huffed, before quickly walking off in Goodman's direction. Booth smile formed into a frown. He dropped one hand from his side and held it up in the air.

"Woah, wait! You work in a lab! What the hell do you need a gun for?" Brennan did not turn back to answer him.

"To shoot people," she muttered under her breath, loud enough for him to hear. Booth did not know whether that was a statement or a threat.

* * *

_Next: Booth and Brennan in the car to the crime scene, alone together. Will there be a spark of chemistry or will they eat each other alive? Or both? And what the hell happened to Brennan's foot? To be continued, very soon (if you like it)! _


	2. 2nd theme: Love

_Hello again! I'm on a 'short-two-day-waiting-period', so while writing this, I haven't even posted the first chapter on . Well, I guess this will account for the fastest update ever! Let me know what you think, reviews are appreciated!_

_And looking out the window reminds me that I still don't own Bones. My writing is strictly for entertainment purposes. _

_- AllysonHale_

* * *

**Truth Be Told **_– by AllysonHale_

2nd theme: Love

Seeley Booth knew a lot of things. For one, he knew that he could shoot an enemy target through the heart with a rifle from a 600 yard distance. He knew that he was about to win a lot of money in the casino, most likely even tonight. And he knew, from the body language of the woman next to him, that she did not want to be here. Doctor Temperance Brennan was sitting on the passenger's seat, spine slumped forward, her elbow resting against the doorway and her hand supporting her head as she looked out the side window.

There was nothing but silence between them. Booth took his eyes off of the road several times to take a quick glance at her. Besides her dissatisfied attitude, he also could not help but wonder about her eyes. They were the deepest blue he had ever seen. They were like the waters he had seen in Tahiti, when he was on a sniper mission. Or like a diamond, sparkling at him from across the room. Or—

"Watch the road!" Brennan called out, forcing his eyes back to the road. Booth could barely steer sharply to the right to avoid running into a taxi cab who was blowing his horn at him aggressively. A hand with a certain finger sticking out appeared through the driver's side window. Her beautiful eyes widened as she sat up straight in her seat. Well, at least that got her attention.

"Shit, sorry," Booth apologised, trying to keep the wheel straight.

"What were you doing? You were obviously not paying enough attention to the road!" she noted. Booth swallowed nervously and reached up to loosen his tie. Eyes to the road, Seels, not your co-worker.

"I was thinking, okay, Bones? It helps to clear my head so I can focus better at the crime scene," he explained. He turned on his blinker and moved to the right.

"Don't call me Bones! And it is very dangerous to let yourself get distracted like that. Twenty-five to fifty percent of all vehicle related accidents are caused by distracted drivers, many of which with a lethal outcome or serous injuries." Brennan explained, sitting back in her seat again. Booth frowned.

"What are you, Wikipedia?"

"I don't know what that means."

"You don't know Wikipedia?"

"No." Booth felt Brennan's eyes almost burning a hole into him. Was it just him, or was it getting hot in here?

"It's an online encyclopaedia!" Booth enlightened, taking his eyes off the road again momentarily, to glance at Brennan. She threw her head backwards and broke her eyes away from Booth. He steered the car off of the high way to enter the city, leaving the long and abandoned road behind.

"Online encyclopaedias are not accurate!" Brennan disapproved. "They are not based on actual facts, science and experience, but more on people's thoughts and conjecture." Booth shook his head and cleared his throat.

"It's like I just picked you up from a museum…" he muttered under his breath.

"You did!" Brennan argued. The corner of Booth's mouth twitched.

"Right." A pregnant pause followed between them. Brennan did not do anything but stare out the window. Booth drove through the centre of Washington DC, glancing at his rear view and side mirrors more than usual, careful not to make any more mistakes to set off doctor Brennan. He could not help himself but cast a few quick looks at her. Her hair was tied back in a pony tail. She was wearing a green blouse and a light blue jeans. She appeared not to be wearing any make up, yet Booth had to admit that she was rather attractive. Way too attractive to be locked up in a lab day in and day out. Her jeans hugged her legs, hips and backside in just the right way to show off her hourglass figure. The top button of her blouse was open, showing off a nice stripe of creamy skin.

Suddenly Brennan straightened her back again and looked around the environment. She turned her head from the front window, to the side, then back to the front again until her eyes came to rest on Booth. He quickly looked away. "Why didn't you turn left here?"

"Because this way is shorter to the crime scene," Booth defended. Decomposed remains had been found wrapped in a plastic sheet on the outskirts of the city, and a badge of a missing FBI agent was tucked in the hand of the body.

"In distance, maybe, but we're going to be stuck in traffic for at least half an hour. There are tons of traffic lights on this lane," Brennan exclaimed.

"You're kidding," Booth said, trying to sound surprised. The traffic in front of them slowed down and red brake lights lit up around them. Booth slowed down the car and looked up at Brennan with a smile. Oh yes, he was very much aware that the road to the left would have taken them to their destination faster.

"No!" Brennan said, eyes widened. She closed her eyes and sighed in frustration, before slumping back down in her seat once again, adjusting the seat belt so that it was not painfully pressing into her shoulder anymore.

"Well, at least that gives us some time to get to know each other better, right?" To try to break the ice, Booth send her his trademark charm smile, a wide smile that softened his eyes and displayed all of his teeth. It did not have the much desired effect, as Brennan simply looked away.

"I will only be working with you on this one case, so there is no need for us to get acquainted more," she replied. Booth raised an eyebrow. Why was she so moody? Another moment of silence passed between them, as they slowly crept by tall white buildings, green lands of grass and sidewalks.

"So, I heard you broke your foot?" Booth tried once again. Brennan raised her head and looked at him with surprise clearly visible on her face. "Is it okay now?" Brennan continued to look at him with a look like a deer caught in headlights.

"Yes." Was all she managed to say, not taking her eyes off of him. Booth could not break his gaze from her. He felt like maybe he was striking a chord in her. Was she not used to being asked questions? What was with her anyway?!

"How did it happen?" Brennan's eyes were now looking straight into his. Oh, these blue eyes…

"It was an accident," she said in a soft voice. Their eyes never left each other.

"What happened?" Booth questioned again. Brennan opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the car behind them, slamming the horn. Booth turned around to look through his rear window. The man behind him made a waving gesture, urging him to drive on. Booth turned back to the front and noticed that the traffic had moved forward several feet. Releasing the brake, the car rolled forward.

Brennan, in the meanwhile, had turned her head completely away from Booth. Was she inwardly cursing herself for letting go a little? Was it too personal? Was he closing in on her already? Booth was used to understanding people. He could tell whenever one was lying or hiding something. This woman was a little bit harder to read. It was going to take more effort.

Booth kept quiet for a little while, allowing her to gather her thoughts while he focused back on the traffic. Brennan did not move during all that time. Booth inhaled sharply and looked around his car, tightly gripping the steering wheel.

"So, are you married?" Booth questioned. Brennan jerked her head back into his direction.

"Anthropologically speaking, your interest in me is suggesting sexual attraction. You as an alpha male are considering me as your mate and with these questions you are testing our compatibility," she took a deep breath. "It is making me very uncomfortable. I wish you'd refrain from any further questions."

"Oh, come on Bones. It's just a partner thing. I ask you a question, you can ask me a question. It's just to, you know, get a conversation started. It will make our collaboration run more smoothly," Booth elaborated.

"Don't call me Bones! And I disagree. My answers might not be to your liking and then your questioning will have the opposite of the desired effect," Brennan turned away again. Booth started ticking with his fingertips on the steering wheel. How long had this traffic light been red already? Five minutes?

"Look, how offending could an answer to a simple question about your love life be?" Booth asked.

"Love and marriage are two different things." Brennan stated.

"They go together, alright?" Booth cleared up. Brennan frowned.

"No, marriage is a piece of paper signed by two people to prove their dedication to each other and love is a chemical reaction in the brain, caused by phenylethylamine. Both are irrational concepts," Brennan argued, meeting his gaze from the corner of her eyes. "You can't seem to keep your eyes on the road, so maybe you should let me drive. I'm an excellent driver."

"You are calling love and marriage irrational?!" Booth's disbelief was clear in his voice. His dark eyes were looking at the traffic in front of him while at the same time glancing at his partner whenever he got the chance. Beside them, an old Honda pulled up with music blasting loud enough to make the windows shake. Both Brennan and Booth looked up at the youngster behind the wheel, who was bopping his head up and down, not paying attention to anyone around him.

"Well, yes! Anthropology teaches us that humans by nature are not a monogamous species, so the idea of marriage is nothing more but a form of blackmail to have someone stay with you for the rest of their lives. And the chemical that causes someone to experience love, clouds judgement and tampers with emotions. It makes people behave out of character and make hasty decisions. The concept of love as an emotion is just a sentimental gesture, often used for commercial purposes." The youngster in the car next to them slammed the gas pedal, making the tires squeak as the car raced forward…only to brake again a few feet further.

"So you don't believe that two people loving each other is a beautiful thing?" Booth questioned, feeling something stir inside him. Never before had he met someone like her, trying to do away with everything life was about. She had overanalysed everything, to break it down into tiny, simple to clarify pieces.

"It's meaningless," Brennan replied. "I just told you that it's nothing more than a chemical released in the brain." Was she serious?

"See, that's where you are wrong, very wrong. When people love each other, they can do extraordinary things, go to extraordinary limits just to be there for each other. People in love are happy, complete, successful in life!" Booth defended.

"And once they've had sex and that chemical is gone, they realise how irrational their behaviour has been and they go back to being their miserable selves again," Brennan added, exhaling slowly. She turned away to look Booth up and down. He was sitting up straight, his form tense, his hands clenched around the steering wheel. "Is that what you need to be successful?"

That did it. Booth let go off the steering wheel with his right hand and turned his upper body in his seat to lean into her. Brennan leaned back against the passenger door as Booth closed in on her. He held his finger up between them as if he was pointing out something. Brennan followed the line of his finger up towards the roof of the car, but encountered nothing.

"Look, just because you are in an abusive relationship right now, doesn't mean that every guy, every love is like that." Booth spoke in a slow manner. Brennan's eyes widened and her mouth fell open in shock.

"Conjecture!"

"Oh come on, Bones. Your foot was broken, you're not giving me any straight answers. I bet your husband stood on it, or stomped on it even when he was angry."

"More conjecture!" Booth had been unaware of their close proximity until the car behind them blew his horn once again impatiently. Booth and Brennan's eyes met again for two seconds, hazel brown into light blue. Booth wished he could understand better what he read in them. Brennan swallowed nervously, before Booth sat back and sped up the car until it stopped at the next line of traffic lights again.

"I bet you're just waiting to be saved," Booth concluded. Brennan could not help but chuckle slightly, earning another frowned glance from Booth. This was the first time he had made her smile. As frustrating as it was, talking to her, she had something that charmed her to him.

"For your information, I'm excellent at self defense and I have a gun. If someone was to physically abuse me, I'd shoot him," she sounded serious and determined enough to make Booth believe her. He cocked his head to the side and thought for a while. She was not wearing a ring, so maybe there was no husband after all. What else then? A boyfriend, brother, an ex? Or an unfortunate accident while changing the tyres of her car? "Just like I'm excellent at driving. Do you want me to take over?"

"You can stay right over there, Rain Man," Booth said, rubbing his forehead with his hand before turning on the radio. The sounds of a football match filled the car. The commentator spoke in an energetic, elated voice. What team did he bet on again? Brennan's eyebrows had folded themselves into a frown once more.

"I don't know what that means."

"You know what? Maybe it's best to keep quiet until we reach the scene, alright? Where the air is filled with the smell of putrification, instead of this tension," Booth gestured in between them.

"It is impossible to perceive tension by smell or vision," Brennan enlightened.

This time, it was Booth smiling at something said.

* * *

_Next: the B&B bickering/arguing continues when Brennan disagrees with Booth about… no, I'm not__ going to tell you what it's about. You can read for yourself next time. To be continued, if you like it!_


	3. 3rd theme: Light

_Hello, readers, here I am again! Thank you, everyone who persisted in reviewing me last time, when Fanfiction's review system kept sending error messages. I hope this time more of you will be so kind. Many people lurk and put the story on alert, which is just fine of course, but I'm really interested to hear your thoughts, comments, ideas…everything! Especially since this is my first fanfic ever. And yes, I respond! Let me know what you think of this chapter, I worked a long time on it and I am quite curious to find out how you think it turned out._

_I'm driving a Renault Twingo (though not right now, because my ankle IS in a cast still) with a Dutch license plate, so I'm sad to hereby inform you that I don't own Bones or its characters. If I did, I would be driving a bigger car (maybe follow Emily Deschanel's example and drive a Prius) with an American license plate, because that's where I'd be. Ah, a girl can dream, right?_

_- AllysonHale _

* * *

**Truth Be Told**_ – by AllysonHale_

3rd theme: Light

Despite all the glass windows and doors in the Jeffersonian Institute, the office of doctor Temperance Brennan was dark. The only light coming from the lamp placed on her desk, lighting the sheets that had been strategically spread out. Only one side of her face was enveloped in a yellowish glow, the other side was cast in a bluish shadow of the computer screen. In a way, staying in the dark helped Brennan cheat her internal clock. Without the transition from light to dark, her body did not give her clear signs anymore when it was time to sleep. Brennan could lose track of time, work an entire night if she needed to, before a feeling of numbness and exhaustion would come over her.

And she needed to work this afternoon, or was it evening already? Agent Booth had left early because he was needed for other duties. He would not be free until midnight either, which left her with extra papers and reports to write. Brennan did not mind it very much. She enjoyed her job and the distraction it provided from something that people liked to call a 'private life'.

"Sweetie," Brennan had been so caught up into looking at her computer screen that she had not noticed the footsteps moving towards her office. She looked concentrated, brows furrowed and had drowned out all the noise around her as her fingers skidded across the keyboard and words appeared behind a small black, blinking stripe on the screen. The sudden voice that spoke up out of nowhere made Brennan nearly jump out of her seat as she looked up at Angela's face with widened eyes. Brennan leaned backwards, with her left arm resting on her table, her right wrist resting in her lap. "Wow. Guilty conscience?"

"No," Brennan said, turning back to sit straight behind the computer, her hands hovering above the keyboard, ready to continue her activities again. "I was just writing a report about the remains we discovered today. My first observation confirms that it's a male in his late twenties, early thirties of negroid descent, like the FBI agent that went missing. However, time of death is more difficult to be determined, because the remains were wrapped in plastic, which should have slowed down decomposition."

Angela placed a hand on her hip and cocked her head slightly to the side, making a few strands of dark hair fall to the side. "Yes, that is very interesting, but I have come to abduct you," when Brennan frowned and opened her mouth to speak, Angela quickly added "I don't mean that in the literal sense, I mean that I'm taking you out for a drink in town."

"Cause of death is preliminary, but there was blunt force trauma to the skull. Zach will determine what kind of weapon fits the injuries. I still need to take a better look at the bones though. X-rays need to be taken and bone scrapings…"

"Brennan!" Brennan stopped talking to look at her best friend.

"Angela, I really can't. There is still so much to do. Agent Booth left me with all this paperwork because he had some other tasks at the bureau and I really should finish this first report and await some test results," Brennan said.

"Ah, that hot FBI guy," Angela recalled, snapping her fingers. During Brennan's absence, she had met him more than once. Only brief encounters though, but those were enough to make her wonder what he looked like naked. One time, he came to the lab to drop off a file. He had handed it to her, a post-it note stuck to the cover with Brennan's name scribbled on it in a barely readable handwriting. He had smiled at her briefly and before she ever got the chance to give him a good look-over, he was out the door again.

"For now, I'd like him to remain cold and focus on the job," Brennan exhaled. Looking at the file that laid open on top of her desk, she shook her head. "I need to request Zach to clean the bones. There are tests to be ordered and I still have another skull to catalogue."

"Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow," Angela walked around Brennan's desk until she stood right behind her. She placed her hands on the back of the chair and leaned forward so she could read along on Brennan's computer screen. Brennan quickly clicked on something else so that the webpage disappeared and she was back in the system of the Jeffersonian. "Did that just say 'Restraining Order'?"

Brennan looked over her shoulder to cast Angela a quickly glance. "Yeah, I'm researching."

"Are you and Pete having problems?" Angela asked, looking down on the top of Brennan's head.

"You know we are," Brennan said, her hands still stuck above the keyboard.

"Has it gotten so bad that you need to get a restraining order to get rid of him?" Brennan did not reply. Angela turned Brennan's chair to the left, so that Brennan faced away from the computer and Angela could stand in front of her. "Brennan! You would tell me if something was seriously wrong, right?"

"Of course," Brennan promised, trying to turn herself back in front of the computer, but Angela stopped her. "Why does everyone seem to believe that I'm in an abusive relationship lately? I carry a gun and I know martial arts, I can defend myself very well." Angela examined Brennan until her eyes rested on her face.

"If that's true, sweetie, why won't you tell anyone about what happened to your foot?" Angela questioned. Brennan exhaled slowly.

"It was an accident, I _have_ told you that."

"And not a single word more," but Angela left it at that, because she knew her friend long enough to realise that she was not going to say anything more. She held out her hand, Brennan's eyebrow furrowed as she looked at it. "Now come with me for a drink."

"Angela…"

"Come on, sweetie. We don't even have to talk about anything. Just you, me and a glass of booze on a way too early Friday afternoon," Angela tried to persuade her. The smile that slowly formed itself on Brennan's face told her that she had succeeded. Brennan took her hand and pushed herself up from the chair.

* * *

Brennan felt a slight wave of panic wash over when they arrived at their destination. The blinking lights. The mechanical beeps and melodies. The people with red-rimmed eyes, sitting at poker tables, slot machines or the bar. Had she known that Angela was going to take her to the newly opened casino in downtown D.C., she would have declined the invitation.

"Why are we here?" Brennan questioned to no one in particular. She felt Angela hook her arm through hers and drag her through the crowd. Waitresses in short dresses were walking around, carrying trays with drinks, differing from fruit tea to hard liquor. Men in suits and white shirts sat at the slot machines. There were very few women present.

"We're here because I got coupons," Angela laughed. "First three drinks are for free, baby! Maybe afterwards, we can play a game of poker…"

Brennan halted at a slot machine. A man was sitting in front of it in a slumped stance. His pale face was lit by different colours from the flashing lights of the machine. His eyes were glued to the three slots where different pictures raced past until they suddenly stopped. Brennan stood right beside the man, earning a confused and irritated look.

"You know, that drawing of the cherry is not accurate. It is portrayed as a bright red fruit here, while in reality they are more purple to black coloured. And when the cherry is still stuck to a tree and not ripe yet, it's green," Brennan looked at the man, who had turned back to the slots and paid no further attention to her presence. "This is wrong."

"Thank you, sweetie, now let's go for that drink." Angela tried, but once Brennan got started –

"And medically, it's advised to take a fifteen minute break after every forty-five minutes of playing. Your bleak appearance suggests a shortage of Vitamin D, which can be found in sunlight, therefore I assume you have spend more time than that suggested limit behind this machine," Angela started tugging on her arm. "Also, the veins in your eyes have sprung, which is a sign of dry eyes, which in your case can be caused by not blinking enough, because you keep your eyes on these pictures all the time."

"Come on, Brennan," Angela, pulled her arm a little harder, turning her around. The man looked over at Angela, making a shiver run down her spine. Well, Brennan was right about one thing: the man did look like a zombie. After all, that was basically what she was saying, right?

"These bright colours and high tones are meant to attract people into foolishly spending more money. Once these tones speed up, the adrenaline in a player's body can start to increase and make people believe that they are almost winning. People put money in these machines, because the adrenaline running through them causes a thrill. Pupils dilate, blood pressure increases…," Brennan cited. Angela smiled and wrapped her arm around Brennan's shoulders as she steered Brennan to the restaurant area.

"Oh, where would the world be without you, Brennan?"

"In the exact same place, I imagine," Brennan helpfully answered.

Angela and Brennan took a seat near a glass wall that separated the smoker's from the non-smoker's lounge. The two friends sat opposite of each other across the table for two. Angela sat with her face to a painting on the wall, Brennan had a view on the gambling crowd. Two roulette tables were placed right in between the restaurant and the slot machine area. Brennan's eyes rested on her friend. She was wearing a black sleeveless shirt and a necklace that matched her make-up. Suddenly, Brennan felt slightly out of place. She ordered a beer and waited for Angela to make a toast.

"To our hot new FBI-agent. May you work with him more often so that we can both get to know him better," Angela held out her glass of wine and winked at Brennan before ticking their glasses against each other. Brennan chuckled. "What's his name again?"

"Seeley Booth," Brennan answered, taking a sip of her drink. Angela folded her arms and leaned forward.

"And…?" Angela shook her head with a smile when she gained no further response from Brennan but a slight shrug of her shoulders. "What else do you know about him?"

"I know he believes that love is internal and that marriage is a symbol of dedication. He got really angry with me when I disagreed," Brennan told Angela. She reached behind her head and slid the elastic band from her pony tail. She shook her auburn hair out until it fell to the sides of her face.

"Is he married?"

"I don't know. We don't like each other," Brennan explained. From the corner of her eye, she spotted something behind Angela's back.

"You already know that?" Angela questioned. Brennan's eyes narrowed and continued to follow the object of her interest with her eyes. "Brennan?"

"Yeah. Yes, I know that. Whenever I see him, he always says something that pisses me on. And he has implied that he feels the same way about me," Brennan's mouth fell slightly open in shock. That long black trench coat, that short brown hair… It could not be, could it?

"The correct saying is 'pissing someone off', Brennan. Pissing someone on…is putting entirely different scenarios in my head," Angela said, very much aware that her best friend had lost all interest in continuing the conversation further. Brennan figured that there was only one way to find out. She got up from her chair and walked towards the roulette table in quick steps.

"Agent Booth!" Brennan called out. The man in the long jacket immediately jerked around and his eyes crossed her eyes. Brennan took a step back in surprise. Angela had turned around in her seat to watch the scene unfold. She took this as her cue to hurry to the cashier to hand him the coupon so that she could intervene and make sure nobody was going to get hurt.

It was him, really. He was holding a plastic box of coloured chips in his hand, an expression on his face that clearly read that he was caught by surprise. What was it that people said again? Butted?! Angela caught up with them and stood next to Brennan, moving her eyes from her to her partner. Several emotions ran through Brennan at that moment. The tension between them was nearly palpable. She experienced emotions that indicated that she felt either disappointed, upset, angry or maybe all of the above. But neither of the above was rational, of course, so she chose to clutch her fists to her sides and narrow her eyes.

"This is the last time you and I have worked together," she stated. Angela placed her hand on Brennan's upper arm. Brennan locked eyes with Booth, who opened his mouth slightly. When no words came out, Brennan let Angela drag her away from the scene, the gambling machines and the staring audience. They had only set a few steps in the direction of the tables, at which they had previously been seated, when Booth grabbed her other arm.

"Bones…"

"No! Don't call me Bones!" Brennan jerked her arm free from Booth's grasp. Booth drew his arm back to his side.

"It's not what you think," he defended, a failed attempt. Angela released Brennan as she stepped forward towards Booth. Their faces were only inches away from each other, their bodies almost touching. Brennan's jacket brushed against his arm and Booth looked up at her. All the muscles in her face were tense, her eyes almost seemed to be spitting fire.

"I think you are gambling during work hours, so if that's not it, what is it?" she cocked her head to the side. Booth found that he could not look away from her.

"I—"

"I think, you spent your time at the crime scene today, planning to go here afterwards. I think, you are here because of an irrational belief that you will win money if you keep gambling long enough. I think…," Brennan swallowed, and broke eye contact for a short second "I think you lied to me."

There was a silence in which neither of them spoke. Angela placed one foot to the side and folded her arms. What could she do?

"Bones, I'm so sorry," Booth excused. Brennan swallowed the lump in her throat once more.

"Don't call me Bones," she replied in a softer voice. She turned herself around to look at Angela. "I'd like to go back to the lab now. I have to report Agent Booth to Doctor Goodman and Deputy Director Cullen and continue this work on my own."

"Sweetie…" Angela said. She knew the sight of a broken man when she saw one and Seeley Booth was obviously very broken. His face read guilt all over it and not the kind of guilt of being caught. Maybe this, finding him here, had been punishment enough. "If you do that, he is going to lose everything. His job, his income…his life."

Brennan shot Booth another quick glance. "He should have thought about that before he did this." With that, Brennan paced off towards the exit of the casino. Angela looked at Booth, who looked back at her, before they simultaneously stepped forward to go after her. They followed Brennan outside, into the afternoon sun of Washington D.C.

"Temperance!" Booth called, slightly taken aback when she indeed stopped in her tracks and turned back around to face him. "I am sorry! There is no way I can justify what I just did, so I won't," his turn to swallow, "but please, trust me on this one when I tell you that I will never do this again. I was wrong, Temperance, very wrong and I know."

"How can you expect me to trust you when these few things that you've said to me all turned out to be lies?" Brennan questioned, raising her voice slightly. They caught the attention of a few passing pedestrians. Angela tried to subtly smile them away. There was nothing to see here. Just your average married couple arguing, or so it could seem.

"I guess I can't," Booth admitted, lowering his eyes to the ground. His shoulders slumped forward. Brennan looked him up and down once more, trying to find an anthropological reason for this behaviour. This could be clarified, everything could. She just did not know so sure if she should, in this case.

"I think you should let him have this one, Brennan," Angela suggested. Brennan turned her face towards her best friend. She bit her lip and looked up at the sky. Nothing but blue; no white clouds crossing the warm sun's rays from shining and meeting her skin. She closed her eyes before moving them back down to look back at Booth.

"Alright," she said. "I'll give you another chance." Booth exhaled audibly, relief washing over his face. "But this does not change the way I feel about you. I don't ever want to work with you again." Doctor Temperance Brennan was not cold hearted and not unforgiving. Even though she was a very rational person, she did believe that people could make mistakes. And she believed that Seeley Booth had made one, but was willing to learn from it.

"You are lucky she lets you get away with this so easily. She could have knocked the living daylight out of you," Angela warned him. Booth looked over from her to Brennan. She had her hands tucked in the pockets of her jeans, her eyes narrowed to the sun.

Yet the only light that Booth could see was the ray of sunlight that fell on Brennan's eyes, sparkling them, before she turned around and walked away.

Angela smiled slightly one more time, before she turned around and walked up to Brennan again. Booth sighed and placed his hand on the shoulder of a little bypassing boy, with his hand safely tucked in his mother's hand. The boy paused and turned around, his mother stopped in her tracks as well. "Here," he said, pushing the plastic box of casino chips in his small hands. "Stay in school, kid." Booth petted the top of the young boy's head and smiled at the woman next to him, before turning around as well, and walking into the opposite direction, far away from the casino.

* * *

_Next: Booth and Brennan come together again. Why? How? Are they going to fall into each other's arms and make up? Are they going to slam doors, scratch each other's cars? And what exactly IS Brennan planning to do with Pete? __And is Booth really 'cured' that easily? To be continued, if you like it, and yes there is a way to let me know that you do!_


	4. 4th theme: Dark

_Yes, I am still alive, dear readers! I've been very busy, I'm sure you know how life can get sometimes. Anyway, here's a new chapter. This one is dedicated to Bindiya, for going through the trouble of emailing me to let me know that she liked the story. I hope you like this chapter as well!_

_I still don't own Bones, there's talk that I never will._

_- AllysonHale _

* * *

**Truth Be Told** – by AllysonHale

4th theme: Dark

"Doctor Brennan?" Grad student and assistant Zach Addy slid his magnetic card through the slot, before entering the forensic platform. He held his arms close to his sides and walked with quick strides, passing others in blue lab coats without throwing them a single look. Brennan stood bend over a gurney with a human skeleton. She too was dressed in a blue lab coat and held what appeared to be the right tibia in her gloved hands. Upon hearing her name, she straightened her back and looked up.

"Yes, Zach?"

"You requested me to notify you whenever Agent Booth was trying to contact you?" Zach hesitated. He took a few quick glances around as if making sure that nobody was going to jump out right in front of him. Lucky for him, everybody seemed very focussed on their tasks at hand. The only sounds that could be heard all through the auditorium were the beeping of computers and the soft humming of the airconditioning. Papers rustled, here and there a shoe squeeked on the smooth floor. Brennan sighed and shook her head slightly before turning her attention back to the bone that rested in her hands.

"Never ever put him through, I don't care what Doctor Goodman says. Tell him to go to hell or call the forensic anthropologist in Montréal. Or both…," she said, stepping forward to the gurney and grabbing another tibia. Squinting her eyes, she compared both bones underneath the light, before reaching out to glance it over underneath the magnifier. The hardness in her voice caught the attention of another doctor present in the room.

"Woah, what ever happened between you and Agent B?" Doctor Jack Hodgins asked, turning around from the computer screen to the right of the platform. His blue eyes met Brennan's for a second before she closed her mouth and shook her head slightly, once again averting her eyes. Zach thoughtfully decided to refrain from any further clarification. Doctor Brennan had enlightened him with the short version and specifically asked him to keep that knowledge to himself.

"Don't ask," she commented. A sly smile started forming on Hodgins' face, a familiar glint in his eye betrayed that he believed the reason for their argument to be quite humorous. He dropped his hands in his pockets and then turned his attention to Zach as well.

"This is probably good! I should tell Angela about this," he said, half-smiling. Doctor Brennan looked up from the gurney to roll her eyes in annoyance.

"Angela is very much aware of the situation between me and Booth, believe me," she muttered in a low voice. She cleared her throat before frowning in confusion at the knowledge that Zach was still present in the room and staring intently at her. "What's wrong, Zach?"

"Agent Booth is not specifically trying to contact you," he said. Brennan's frown furrowed deeper and she had to remind herself to be a little more patient with Zach. Like her, he was not keen on sharing more details of information than was strictly necessary. "He is downstairs in the parking lot."

"So…?" Zach took a deep breath before voicing his thoughts in one breath.

"He appears to be unconscious."

* * *

Three people entered the crowded parking lot as they came running from the stairs. Brennan was the first one to cross the lot, with Zach and Hodgins following close behind her. Zach did not have to give her any directions. Although she had only worked with Booth once, she could recognise his car out of thousands. Whether it was the fact that his car was so extraordinarily big, she was good with remembering number plates or merely because his car had tinted windows, Brennan was able to hurry right towards it.

She walked to the driver's side and looked through the side window. Zach was right. Booth was sitting behind the wheel with his eyes closed, his face relaxed. Brennan looked him up and down. No visible trauma, no blood, nothing.

"Did you try to wake him up first?" Brennan asked, sliding her hands back in the pockets of her lab coat, reaching for her cell phone. She did not take her eyes off of Booth yet. She could not really tell for certain whether or not he was breathing. He was encased in one of his suits. If needed, she could probably break the window.

"No I did not," Zach admitted, earning him looks from Brennan as well as Hodgins.

"You mean you didn't even tap on the glass?" Hodgins frowned at him in disbelieve. That kid was supposed to be a genius? Hodgins shook his head and looked around the parking lot. There were several camera's around here and the lot was dimly lit. No matter what had taken place here, they would surely be able to find it out.

"Booth?" Brennan called out, not too loud. Booth did not respond. "Booth?!" Louder this time, but still no sound or movement came from within the car. Brennan slapped against the side window with a flat palm, but still nothing happened. Brennan looked at Zach and Hodgins for help before they all turned to the car.

"Booth! Booth!" All three of them were now shouting his name while banging their hands and fists to the side of the car, desperate to earn at least a slight response from him that indicated he was still alive. And a response they got…

Booth sat up straight, startled out of his mind at all the noise and his body jumped up from his seat. Fighting the urge to immediately draw his gun and start shooting like a mad man, he looked over to his side to look in the concerned eyes of the beautiful Temperance Brennan, another man and a kid. Trying very hard to keep his breathing under control as the banging ceased, Booth needed several seconds to collect himself as he closed his eyes and opened the door.

"Bones! What the hell?!" he demanded. He kept his eyes closed and slumped forward in his seat again as he felt like the car was swaying. Brennan leaned back and sighed, visibly frustrated.

"Oh great, he was just asleep. Zach, the next time you find him here, you can just let him die," Brennan said, before getting up from her bend position. She was already turning herself around, preparing to walk off to get back to her remains as quickly as possible, when Hodgins spoke up.

"Dude, you don't look so good…" Booth raised up a finger.

"Okay, for one, I am not your 'dude', alright? And second, my migraine is killing me. I'm very light sensitive. I can't come into daylight without my head exploding, " Booth noted, all the while keeping his eyes closed.

"Almost like a vampire," Zach diagnosed.

"Almost like a gambling addict who drank too much," Brennan added salt to the wounds. That man had some nerve!

"Gambling? Drinking? What's all that about?" Hodgins wanted to know. Brennan shook her head and knelt down again. She took a pocket light from a pocket in her lab coat and clicked it on.

"Open your eyes for me," Brennan requested demandingly. Booth sat up straighter at the feel of doctor Brennan leaning in so close to him. He could feel her breath ghosting past his cheek.

"What?" he did not understand why she was asking, but he obliged anyway. When he opened his eyes, he saw Brennan peering into his eyes with a light. The brightness sent needle sharp pains right to his brain. "Argh!" Instinctively, he pressed his eyes close again to ease the discomfort. Brennan, however, pried his left eye open with her fingers. "Hey, watch it with the light!" She then moved on to the other eye, ignoring Booth's protesting grunts, before dropping her hand with the light and letting go of him. She sat back and clicked off the light.

"Well, his pupils are responsive and not severely dilated, meaning substance abuse is unlikely," Brennan diagnosed.

"I haven't been drinking! I told you, it's the migraine!" Booth complained. Brennan put the light back in her pocket as Booth shielded his eyes with his hands.

"Good luck with that. Sun sets in about five hours. You might want to wait for that if you are as light sensitive as you claim to be." Brennan squinted at him before she got back up on her feet. Hodgins, leaning against the car with his hands in his pocket, looked from Booth to Brennan and back.

"You have a dark office, doctor Brennan, and a couch for agent Booth to rest on," Hodgins suggested. Brennan turned her head towards him with a jerk. Oh, if eyes could shoot fire, doctor Hodgins would have been burned to a crisp right now. Hodgins replied it with a slight nod of the head in Booth's direction. The man could not help being ill! It could happen to anybody! Surely, if it had been her in his position, she would not appreciate rotting away in a car for five hours in a cold parking lot that smelled like gasoline and motor oil.

"I have work to do in my office," Brennan claimed.

"But you were just working on the forensic platform," Zach chimed in, blissfully unaware of the fact that he was putting his job on the line as Brennan shot him a look as well.

"My computer is there," Brennan defended her disposition. Hodgins stepped forward and placed a friendly hand on Booth's shoulder. On every other occasion, Booth would have shrugged or slapped it off, but now he felt in too much pain to even care. The cocky smile that usually graced his lips was now untraceable and nowhere to be found.

"I'm sure that he won't mind, do you Agent B?"

"I'd appreciate it a lot, Bones," Booth opened one brown eye to look up at her. Brennan felt like she was standing with her back against the wall as three people awaited her response. She bit her lip and nodded, not so much in agreement but rather in defeat.

"Fine, but you have to be out by sunset," and once again, she turned around and walked off. Anger radiated off of her. "And don't call me Bones!" Hodgins finally allowed himself to let a chuckle escape from his throat.

"Dude…you really pissed her off!" Hodgins enlightened Booth, who grabbed his coat from the passengers seat and tried to put it on with his eyes still closed.

"Well, it didn't take much," Booth replied. Zach found himself in a position again in which he was not sure of his task or the value of his presence. His eyes rested on Booth with an uneasy frown.

"Should I get a gurney down here?"

* * *

Ten minutes later, Booth found himself stationed on the couch of Temperance Brennan's office. His head rested on a pillow against the arm of the couch. A thin blue blanket covered his legs. He had one arm draped over his head. It was dark in here, thankfully. The temperature was pleasantly cool and not the damp suffocating heat that his own office used to know. Brennan was looking down on him from behind her desk. She was turning herself from left to right in her chair as she shuffled her feet.

"Do you have these migraines a lot?" she asked, not caring whether or not he was asleep. She heard a slight intake of breath – good, he was not sleeping – before he spoke up.

"It differs. When I'm under a huge pressure or under a lot of stress, it tends to get worse," he told her. Brennan lowered her eyes and let this information sink in for a few minutes before she looked back at him.

"What do you feel pressured about?" He replied her with a sigh first.

"Many things." There was a pause in which neither of them said anything. "Matters of the heart."

"You have a heart disease?" Brennan frowned, followed by Booth.

"What? No! What I mean is that there are things bothering me, that mean a lot to me. They are important to me, which makes it so difficult to cope," Booth tried to explain. He thought of gambling, he thought of his job, he thought of his son, he thought of bones...

"So…the heart is a metaphor for important things?" Brennan thought about it for a little while. "It makes sense. The heart is a very important muscle." Booth opened his eyes and shook his head.

"You're just not getting it, do you?" Brennan's head snapped up.

"Is this some psychology thing then? Because I hate psychology. It is not my field of expertise."

"Obviously," Booth commented. Brennan's eyes hardened and she opened her mouth to say something, but decided wisely against it. How was it that she could not talk to this man for five minutes before things got out of hand and they were bickering again? Special Agent Seeley Booth did not bring out the best in her.

"What did you come to do here anyway?" Brennan asked instead. After all, they found him in the parking lot so he must have wanted something.

"I came to make amends," Booth said. In the dark, his head ache was considerably less. Carefully pushing the blanket aside, he sat up straight. Brennan watched how he threw his legs over the edge of the sofa.

"Amends?" Brennan questioned. Booth's feet met the ground and he rested a while, his head hanging as he was sitting up again. He felt a dull ache on the right side of his head. Migraines were crazy like that. Every attack seemed different from the last time; sometimes he saw flashes before his eyes, sometimes he could pinpoint the center of the pain exactly and other times it did not make any sense at all. It made him want to curl up into a corner and die sometimes, although Booth was a man that could easily handle pain.

"Yes Bones, amends." He stood up and slowly, started to approach her. Brennan swallowed nervously, unsure of what was coming next. "I quit gambling, I'm doing the twelve-step-program. Step nine; apologise to those you've hurt. I came to apologise to you."

Another nervous swallow as he was coming very close towards her. "You didn't hurt me." Booth was now standing right in front of her desk. He leaned forward, palms resting on top of the desk.

"I have, Bones, I did hurt you. I haven't been fair to you. I was working with you, but I went gambling instead of helping you with our case. I haven't given you the respect you deserve," Booth explained, instinctively leaning into her. Their eyes locked. Brennan's breath caught in her throat. Did he expect her to lean back or to say something?

"What do you say? Will you forgive me?" Never taking her eyes off of Booth's, she inhaled deeply. There it was. Just like that, there was something other than the sheer annoyance that he always used to spark within her.

"Well, I'm glad to see that you two are making up in the dark," two faces turned towards the door. Angela stood with her hands on her hips, a very evident smile on her face that could be seen even in the dark. "What is this? 'Up Close and Personal with Booth and Brennan?'"

Brennan turned back to look at Booth. Suddenly he seemed aware of their close proximity as well as his gaze lowered towards her lips and he quickly leaned back. Brennan turned to the right in her chair. "I have to go," she said, quickly getting to her feet and following a grinning Angela out the door. Angela took a few steps back so Brennan could pass.

"I ran your scenario from the Delvin's case through the Angelator. Do you want to come and have a look?" Angela asked her. Brennan nodded at her best friend.

"Sure, you go ahead. I'll be right over." Angela shot her one last naughty smile and made Brennan want to roll her eyes, before turning around and walking off. Brennan looked back at the man, who only appeared as a shadow as she stood in the doorway. No wonder Angela was getting all these funny ideas. "You should rest," she placed her hand on the door handle and pulled the door towards her. "Feel free to use my couch for as long as you need." Brennan quickly closed the door without waiting for another reply and headed after Angela, shaking her head at no one in particular.

* * *

_Oh, I like awkward moments between Booth and Brennan, can you tell? Next: Booth makes a house call to Brennan, who appears to be leaving. Where is Brennan going? And why is Booth stopping by? While you are waiting for the next chapter to come out, let me know what you think of this story/chapter so far. I'd hugely appreciate it!_


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